Rue Morgue
by Heavenmetal
Summary: This big monkey has terrorized the Rue Morgue for months. What exactly did Hyde do? And what led up to him being chased across rooftops by Quatermain?
1. The Rue Morgue

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen is copyright Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill. I'm not making any money off this. Don't sue or I'll have Hawley Griffin beat you to death with a shovel (and you thought Hyde was bad...)  
  
Rue Morgue  
  
Chapter 1: terrible things  
  
"You must suffer me to go my own dark way. I have brought on myself a punishment and a danger that I cannot name. If I am the chief of sinners, I am the chief of sufferers also. I could not think that this earth contained a place for sufferings and terrors so unmanning;" - Dr. Henry Jekyll, "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" by Robert Louis Stevenson  
  
~~~~~  
  
Henry Jekyll had the most unsettling dream. He had been in London, still a respected doctor. In this dream, he had abandoned his theory that man is two separate beings. In this dream, he had never created the formula that would divide him from his evil half and most certainly never drank it, never turned into Edward Hyde and committed deeds so deplorable and degenerate that any man with a fear of God would cross himself and pray after hearing of them. He had dreamt that he was speaking with two of his oldest schoolmates and dearest of friends. He hadn't committed any damnable acts that would lose him his reputation and his companions, hadn't had to fake his own death and flee the country to escape the gallows.  
  
But dreams must end when one awakens and truth, the cruel beast, devours them, leaving nothing but itself.  
  
He awoke in a cold sweat, near trembling with guilt. One look around his room had broken the illusion the dream had built and he recalled what had brought him to this. Hyde had done many things, abominable things, that shocked and sickened the good doctor and that was why he was here, in Paris  
  
Back in London, Edward had persuaded Henry, in a moment of weakness, to drink the formula. Hyde, however, had been in an unimaginable fury after being imprisoned in the remorseful Jekyll for too long and turned that fury on the first man to cross his path. Hyde killed him, beat him to death with a cane belonging to Dr. Henry Jekyll. But this was no beggar or villain whom Edward had murdered. This was a man who would be missed... a member of Parliament.  
  
It was for this reason that Jekyll had gathered a small amount of his inherited fortune and fled to Paris where he could start over. He rented a flat on the Rue Richelieu, even managed to obtain a job. His medical experience gained him a position at a mortuary just one street from where he resided, the Rue Morgue. It was so named for the many mortuaries it possessed. It was, however, a less than reputable neighborhood, littered with vagrants and prostitutes. But that suited Hyde just fine.  
  
And that was the problem. At first, Hyde had been mostly silent and too in fear of being recognized (even so far from London) to fuss over if Jekyll would release him or not. As time passed, Hyde became more demanding. Edward's thoughts plagued Henry, who spent much of his time praying in repentance with the sound of dark, mocking laughter in his head. It began to effect Jekyll at work.  
  
More than once Jekyll would find himself working late, on an autopsy or embalming, and would glance out a window to spy a pretty whore flirting with passersby. Perverse and base, sometimes violent thoughts would enter unbidden into his head courtesy of Hyde, and he would find himself halfway to the door before coming to his senses. Once this had happened while in his home and he had a bottle of formula half emptied before he realized what he'd done. Thankfully, Hyde had done nothing but drink and flirt with some barmaids for an hour.  
  
The horror of what could have happened that night never left him and, after much thought, he came to a conclusion as to how he could restrain Hyde. Jekyll began to indulge Hyde without actually bringing him out. A few nights a week, Henry would go out and drink or gamble. He even became a regular with the prostitues... Henry had to admit that it wasn't unpleasant, in moderation, but that wasn't enough for Hyde. And after twelve years of abstinence Hyde was very persistent.  
  
Last night had been example enough. He had been weak, tired, and he drank the formula. And this morning, when the fogginess of sleep cleared from his mind, he recalled every detail of what had transpired. Jekyll began to murmur aloud to himself.  
  
"Violence... so much blood..." He looked down at his hands, stained with blood, "My God!"  
  
He leapt from his bed, shaking in fear. Racing to his bathroom, he began to scrub away the traces of Hyde's crime. "Oh Edward! What have you done?" But, from his open window, he could hear the boys selling newspapers,crying it the streets... Murder.  
  
Jekyll was sickened. He poured himself a glass of sherry to calm his nerves.  
  
He remembered everything, could recall every horrible detail as if he had done the deeds himself. Hyde had spotted a pretty, young whore on the street with dark hair and a lithe frame. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to break her neck. He silently followed her and as she arrived home and while she opened the door, he attacked. He forced her to let him inside. Once he had slammed the door shut behind him, he covered her mouth so she wouldn't scream. He pushed her to the floor, even as she fought him, scratching and kicking. She managed to rip out a handful of his hair which only angered him.  
  
"Whore! Bloody, stinking whore!" He shouted. Then he struck her and she stilled, crying silently. The sight of tears falling from blue eyes and down that heart shaped face had given Hyde a rush of satisfaction. He kissed her roughly, demandingly. Between kisses, Hyde began to whisper to her in his harsh voice about the many ways he could kill her, all the while his hand caressed her face. His touch glided lower and she began to squirm. His hand moved down her youthfully firm body, and under the hem of her dress. She began to fight again, swearing at him in french. She bucked, trying to push him off. It was useless, of course, she could never match his power. He chuckled as her writhing and trashing served only to excite him further. He held her down, parting her legs with his knee. He pushed up her skirts and-  
  
Henry lost his grip on the glass he had been holding and it shattered on the floor. "No! Please God, no..." he whispered to himself. The terrible memory repulsed him. "That poor girl..."  
  
/As if you didn't enjoy it/ Laughed Edward, inside Jekyll's head.  
  
"I didn't. I'm not the monster. You are."  
  
/Tell yourself what you need to, Henry/  
  
Flashes from last night played in his mind, things felt through Hyde's heightened senses; the warmth of her flesh, her chest heaving as she took in great gulps of air between sobs, Hyde's morbid lust as he held her throat and tightened his grip, the intrigue Hyde felt as her eyes slowly dimmed and her pulse slowed, Hyde's grunt as he climaxed inside the dead girl.  
  
No, he hadn't enjoyed it. The whole time, Henry had been trapped inside Hyde screaming at him to stop. It had disgusted him, as it would anyone who had a soul. "That poor girl..." Henry repeated, as if just saying it could undo all of what had been done.  
  
/Girls, Henry. Girls./ Hyde corrected, with no small measure of glee.  
  
Then the screaming started, the girls mother had come home to that gruesome scene. Hyde was angry at the interruption and in a rage, grabbed a razor that had been nearby and slit the woman's throat with such a strength he nearly decapitated her. Blood sprayed everywhere. Hyde again became agitated at this newest inconvenience and began to tear the room apart, breaking what he could, tearing curtains, even pulling the mattress from the bed, cursing loudly the whole while. Someone would have heard the screaming, he had to act quick.  
  
Calming slightly, Hyde realized he had to dispose of the bodies. He grabbed the girl, and shoved her feet first up the chimny. He had gathered up the mother and threw her body out the window to the courtyard. Soon after there was banging on the door. Luckily the woman must have locked it when she came in. Hyde grinned at his good luck and escaped out a window.  
  
Jekyll glanced at a clock, It was not yet nine in the morning. He decided to get ready for work. If he didn't show up, his absence would arouse suspicion. "Hyde, you rash fool!" Jekyll cursed the face in the mirror, the reflection of his inner self, as he dressed.  
  
/You sound upset, Henry./ Hyde remarked sarcastically  
  
Henry clenched his fists as his anger grew, restraining himself from breaking the mirror. "Damn you! Do you mean to ruin me again? What if we're found out?"  
  
/Ah, but that won't happen. I've assured us that./  
  
Jekyll stood stunned as he remembered more of what transpired last night. On the way home Hyde had run into a sailor. He had threatened and intimidated the poor man to confess to the murder with a story Edward had concocted about a pet orang-outang. They wouldn't hang the sailor for that, not for what his escaped pet had done.  
  
Jekyll had grabbed a paper on the way to work, being sure to look congenial regardless of how guilty and sickened he felt. There it was bright as day on the front page of the Gazette Des Tribunaux. Jekyll nervously scanned the article for any mention of witnesses. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief upon noting there was no description of the culprit. He continued reading accounts of people who had heard the screams and felt his heart leap painfully into his throat as he saw a familiar name in the article, Alfonzo Garcio, the name of Jekyll's boss.  
  
He quickly and nervously translated the rest of the paragraph, "heard the voice of an Englishman-is sure of this. Does not understand the English language, but judges by the intonation." Jekyll's pulse was racing. He thanked the powers that he had decided to go to work. Unfortunately, he would have to try not to be suspicious, a hard task to accomplish when he couldn't stop trembling.  
  
/Oh, get a grip, you great poofter. No one in this whole blasted country knows that I'm you. You're safe./ Hyde sneered  
  
"But for how long?" Henry muttered to himself.  
  
TBC  
  
*****  
  
Author's note: I wanted to write this to give a little background into what the hell Hyde was doing in Paris, maybe even tie into the comic a little more, and to clear up some things that were a little too vague in the movie. Thanks for reading. 


	2. The Hunt

Disclaimer: you know the drill...  
  
Rue Morgue  
  
Chapter 2: The Hunt  
  
In Paris, they were satisfied To nab the beastly Edward Hyde  
  
-Alan Moore  
  
~~~~~  
  
The sky was still gray with the coming dawn as Dr. Jekyll awoke. He didn't dare to move nor open his eyes, too afraid to see more blood on his hands. It was remarkable that whenever Hyde had done something truly awful Jekyll would change back into himself quietly in his sleep, unlike the usually painful transformations that occurred when Hyde fought for dominance. Now, he slept, his lust for violence sated as Jekyll clenched his eyes shut tightly, not wanting to wake up and remember. But even so, awareness crept upon him like the morning light that stole into his room, chasing the shadows from his brain.  
  
Another girl, her body in the dirty gutter, her neck at an odd angle, bone protruding from the bruised skin of her slender neck...  
  
Hyde.  
  
As nausea quickly swept over him, Jekyll sprung from his bed in an attempt to reach his bathroom. In his rush, his foot became entangled in the bedding and he tumbled quite ungracefully, and quite painfully, to the hard floor. But still the nightmarish, and by God he wished that they were only so, images assaulted him. Thus, unable to reach the bathroom and his nerves near at the end of their tolerance, he retched, the horror of what had transpired last night taking its toll on him.  
  
There was nothing left in his stomach but still heaves shook him, trying to purge his body of something distasteful, but guilt still lay like lead upon his heart. Waking with blood on his hands was far from a new occurrence to Jekyll. This was the fifth time in two months this had happened. But instead of getting used to it, Jekyll was growing more and more disgusted by the monster inside him.  
  
Tears sprung up in his red-rimmed eyes and he slowly collected himself. He muttered a short prayer, for himself or for the deceased girl, he wasn't sure. But when Hyde began his mocking laugh, Jekyll found his anger.  
  
/Get over it, Henry./  
  
"Hyde, you bastard! We had a deal! You promised you wouldn't! If I let you out, you promised!" Jekyll shouted, his voice hoarse.  
  
Again came that laughter /And you believed me?/  
  
Jekyll sighed, "I should have liked very much to..." Still talking to himself, he muttered, "I couldn't take it. You, in my head, badgering me all day."  
  
/Perhaps, you'll grow to enjoy it then, Henry. You never seemed to mind so much at first. As I recall, you found the anonymity quite liberating./  
  
"Anonymity only lasts when one keeps a low profile," Jekyll answered hotly, "It does not last when someone does something idiotic like kill a member of parliament or an increasing number of whores who live on the same street! People eventually put the pieces together. We'll have to leave if you keep on this way."  
  
/Ah, but if you leave and the murders stop... Well, that would seem rather peculiar to some, wouldn't it?/  
  
Again Jekyll sighed, resigned. He couldn't argue that Hyde was wrong in that. He brushed himself off and stood to fetch something to clean up the mess he'd made.  
  
~~~~~  
  
The Nautilus had just submerged far off the coast of England and was headed to France. On board, the gathered members of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen were in Nemo's state room, preparing for the recruitment of their last member.  
  
"It seems to me," said Skinner, "we have the rough outline of this trip, our where and why, and all we need now is the who to complete the portrait."  
  
Scarcely was the last word out of Skinner's mouth before Dorian abruptly cleared his throat and tapped his cane on the floor. Skinner tried his best to look apologetic around the smirk on his face, "No offense meant, Dorian..."  
  
"Indeed," remarked Dorian before turning to face Alan, "How much do we know about whoever it is we're looking for?"  
  
"All we have to go on is the small amount of information M has given us." Alan replied, handing Dorian a folder. Inside it was everything they knew about the mysterious and violent Mr. Hyde.  
  
Dorian quickly glanced at its contents before handing it back to Alan, "Mr. Edward Hyde? I remember something about him from the papers, quite a sensational story. I thought he was dead."  
  
"M suspects that he faked his death and fled the country," Nemo interjected. "You may recall that after his death it was discovered that he had connections to a Mr. Henry Jekyll, a doctor who has been missing for twelve years. M has found that there is a doctor of the same name living in Paris where, not coincidentally, there has recently been a string of murders."  
  
Tom, who had been standing apart from the others, near the door, now entered the conversation, "murders?"  
  
Nemo nodded but Alan elaborated, "Yes. The first one was a little over two months ago, the murder of Madame L'Espanaye and her daughter. And just last week, a woman named Anna Coupeau was found with her neck snapped. There've been six victims and so far, all of them have been prostitutes."  
  
"Someone killing off bangtails, eh? Have any witnesses seen the Ripper about?" Skinner said, then took a sip of his whiskey.  
  
"Actually," said Alan, "all the eye-witness descriptions from the murders have one thing in common; a large ape-like creature fleeing the scene of the crime"  
  
Sawyer looked terribly confused, "We're after a monkey?"  
  
Dorian smirked, "So it seems we're not only a league but a menagerie as well."  
  
Mina quirked an eyebrow, "And you think this ape has a connection to the missing doctor?"  
  
Alan offered her a forced smile, "Something like that."  
  
"Well, that just leaves us with one problem," Tom said, "How do we find him?"  
  
"We could draw him out," Mina suggested. "If all his victims have been unfortunates, I might pass myself off as a demi-mondain and wait for him to come to us."  
  
"Wouldn't mind seeing that." Skinner smirked, some of the paint on his face coming off as he stroked his chin thoughtfully. Mina leveled a cold stare at him.  
  
"Seems awful risky, don't it?" Tom asked.  
  
Mina redirected her gaze to Tom. "Mr. Sawyer, I think I have quite proven that I'm more than capable of handling myself."  
  
"Tom's right," Alan said, "We're dealing with a brutal murderer. Captain Nemo and myself have come up with a plan to capture him but we have no idea how he may react when cornered. This hunt's too dangerous for a woman, even one such as you. Leave it to me."  
  
Mina looked very affronted and spoke shortly, "If I can be of no further use then I can at least withdraw. I have some experiments that need my attention. Good day."  
  
Dorian's eyes followed her as she stormed out. "I'll see to her." He said, standing quickly. Then, after a brief nod good-bye, he followed her.  
  
Alan sighed, "women... "  
  
"So," said Tom, trying to break the awkward silence that surrounded them, "Who else is coming? Skinner? Nemo?"  
  
"No, thanks mate. I'm a thief not a hunter. If you need something stolen, then I'm your man." And with that Skinner finished his drink.  
  
Nemo spoke, "The french authorities believe that I've been dead since the 'mysterious island' incident. It is better if I remain aboard the ship and let them go on believing it."  
  
Alan turned to Tom, "Well then, Sawyer. Let us prepare for the hunt."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Jekyll spent much time pouring over old texts and his own journals, trying to find a way to undo what he had done to himself. So far all his work hadn't gotten him any closer to reversing his condition. He closed the volume he'd been reading and rubbed his temples.  
  
/Still trying to kick me out, Henry?/  
  
"Be quiet," Jekyll responded, though not with much energy. He looked over his cluttered desk and his eyes fell upon a small pile of newspaper clippings, reports of Hyde's handiwork and all of them mentioning something about a giant ape spotted near the scene or fleeing it.  
  
"I used to be quite a bit bigger than you, at least before we came to Paris." Jekyll thought aloud, the thought striking him as if for the first time. Perhaps it had something to do with his body's metabolism, maybe the formula was more dangerous than he had first perceived.  
  
Something even more horrible occurred to him. Perhaps the reason Hyde was getting bigger was because he'd been allowed so much free range. And with each murder or other despicable deed he committed, the evil side of him became that much bigger to keep the taint of Hyde's sins from becoming Jekyll's.  
  
A knock at his door startled him out of his thoughts, so much so that upon hearing it, he'd stood from his chair. He tried to calm his nerves as he crossed the room to the door and called out "Qui est la?"  
  
He was surprised to be answered by someone with an American accent. "I don't speak french. But we're looking for a doctor Jekyll. We were told at the morgue that we could find you here."  
  
Jekyll cursed himself. He should have changed his name, used an alias. Hopefully these people were just looking for someone to talk to about a dead relative or this would be difficult to get out of. He opened the door just enough to see who was calling upon him. There was a young blonde haired man and a older man with him. "I'm Jekyll," he said, perhaps a bit quieter than he'd meant to, "Who, may I inquire, might you be?"  
  
"Tom Sawyer," replied the young American "of the American secret service."  
  
The older man stepped forward, "We'd be more than happy to explain this inside. If you'd be so kind."  
  
Jekyll eyed them warily. Why would an amercian secret service agent and an old brit be looking for him? A part of him felt he should turn them away but the sensible part of himself realized how odd that would seem... especially if they already knew about Hyde. Henry opened the door all the way and stepped aside to let them in.  
  
He led them to a small seating area, containing more of Jekyll's notes and texts scattered about. "Please excuse the mess, I haven't needed to do any entertaining in some time. Can I offer you tea or-?"  
  
The older man cut him off. "No, thank you. We're hoping to make this a short visit, doctor. We just want to know how we can find Mr. Hyde."  
  
Jekyll stiffened at the sound of the name and felt the blood drain from his face, despite how his heart pounded. It's all over for me, he thought. They know. Frozen in fear, he hadn't realized he'd said the name aloud. "Hyde?"  
  
"Yes," piped up Tom. "Do you know him?"  
  
Jekyll nodded absently "I do."  
  
The brit seemed to be studying Henry but then he spoke. "From my understanding, he caused quite some trouble for you in the past. But if you help us find him, he won't bother you any more."  
  
Jekyll let a shudder of fear run through him... This is the end. Jekyll had the horrible image in his mind of himself hanging from the gallows.  
  
/I can help us escape, Henry. It's the only way./  
  
"yes," he said aloud, his eyes not really focused on his guests. "Please excuse me for a moment."  
  
Not waiting for a response, Henry walked hurriedly into his darkened bedroom, careful to shut the door behind him. He didn't need the light for what he was about to do. He found his way effortlessly to his case, the case that held all his remaining bottles of formula... and drank  
  
Sawyer and Quartermain had thought the doctor was odd, to say the least. He acted so strangely, even more so once they'd mentioned who they were after. But both of them looked to the door of the room Jekyll had entered once they heard what sounded like muffled screams coming from inside.  
  
Alan wished now he hadn't left Matilda in Nemo's automobile. Tom drew one of the pistols from his holster and both men headed for the door. Alan called out to the doctor but he received no response. He nodded to Tom who leveled the gun at the door. Alan slowly opened the door. Suddenly, it was thrust open and something struck Quartermain on the head and he fell. The shadow in the open doorway made no further move, but Tom couldn't get closer to Alan without risking danger. "Dr. Jekyll?"  
  
A harsh voice answered him. "Jekyll's not home. I'm Edward Hyde." The figure from the doorway stepped forward. Tom wasn't sure what to think. The man was huge, he looked like a giant ape. He brandished the cane he was holding and the blood on it glistened in the candlelight. He made as if to charge at Tom and Tom let off a wild shot. The sound of the gun stopped the creature in its tracks. The giant looked down at his right leg and Tom followed his gaze, blood was rapidly staining Hyde's dark trousers. But the beast didn't seem to feel pain, just anger and his face contorted in rage. "You little shit!"  
  
He stepped forward, the cane raised like a club, but Alan had recovered from his knock on the head and he jumped on Hyde's back in an attempt to hold him back. Hyde bellowed. "Let GO of me! Let GO of me, I say! I'll eat your head! I'll tear your stomach out, you little maggot!" He thrashed about trying to get Quartermain off and Tom watched waiting for a clear shot. Hyde managed to throw Alan from his back into the opposite wall and flee out the open window. Tom ran to the window in time to see Hyde climb to the rooftops.  
  
Tom quickly turned back to Quartermain, "He's headed for the roof."  
  
Alan got up as quickly as he could. "It'll be easier to follow him from the streets. Come on!" And with that, Alan and Tom ran out the front door and back onto the street in hot pursuit. 


	3. captured and recruited

Disclaimer: I decided to do something different this time around.

This work is pure fiction and written by me

there's no need to sue because this is for free

The story is drawn from sources old and new

so I think it's my duty to give credit where it's due

Rue Morgue is by Poe who had such a spooky air

but he's been dead for years and I don't think he'd care

Stevenson made Jekyll but no need to scowl

It's been many years now so no harm, no foul

League is a great movie and is quite fun to see

but that won't change the fact that it's not owned by me

The movie was based on Moore's comic so fine

and I'm most sorry to say that it isn't mine.

This poem might be bad and lacking in diction

still I hope you enjoy this piece of fanfiction

Rue Morgue

Chapter 3: captured and recruited

"Should I tell you what they were, eh? These evils he was so desperate to get rid of?"

-Hyde, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, vol. 2

Hyde bounded across the rooftops, fleeing as fast as possible, taking into account his wounded leg. He caught the scent of the two men. They weren't too far behind him. Hyde snorted. He didn't need to be running. He should jump down into the streets and let the puny men come to him and he'd show them a death that would leave them cursing in Hell the foul day that they'd ever seen the face of Edward Hyde.

But it wasn't that easy. If these humans knew that Jekyll and Hyde were of the same person, then even hiding inside the prudish mind of his other half wouldn't save them from the gallows.

He could see the two of them, running through the streets below to try and follow him. They were much too close for Hyde's liking. Could he crush them? ...maybe. But it was caution that sped him onward, not fear, Hyde reasoned to himself, never fear. That was for his weaker side. Still, the urge to escape was strong enough to overpower his bloodlust.

Hyde had just leapt across an alley onto another rooftop when he heard the first gunshot split through the quiet night. As soon as he landed, he turned slightly and jumped again. The bullet had barely grazed his arm and struck a chimney behind him, spraying his back with shards of masonry. He landed on the next rooftop with a pained grunt, mentally cursing that stupid Yank who had shot him in the leg earlier.

Hyde turned to view his pursuers, his anger rising to dangerous levels. He should rip their arms off and drink their blood! However, reason returned to him when he saw the old man raise his rifle for another shot. Hyde ran on again, limping more than he would have preferred.

A bullet suddenly shattered a chimney to his right. He quickly darted left to avoid the flying debris. Although the two men were doggedly, irritatingly persistent, Hyde noted the parade of sloppy shots striking off the rain gutters near his feet and assumed the chase was wearing his pursuers thin.

Just as he was smiling his good luck at the incompetence of these two men, another shot to his right made him wince and turn left. He realized that he was going back the way he'd come and he groaned. This would be a long night.

Bugger this, Hyde thought as he ripped a chimney off its stack. He waited for his pursuers to come around the corner and he threw it into their path. Unfortunately, it didn't kill or wound either of them but they hid under the eaves now. HA! They were cowering from him. So much for the brave hunters, Hyde chuckled his satisfaction and tried to see them from where he crouched, fingers clenched tightly around the cane he still clutched as dearly as a weapon. Hyde intended to be somewhere safe before they developed the courage to venture out of hiding again and stay there until they tired of looking for him. Hyde assured himself once more that he was not afraid.

He was on his way when the gunshots rang out again. Hyde swore and, raising his arms to protect his head, jumped to an adjacent building, realizing too late that its slope was too steep. He landed on his bad leg and stumbled, grasping at the chimney for support as he regained his balance. He turned growling and baring his teeth at his opponents, damned if he'd go down like a simpering coward.

The next shot was much too close to his face. Hyde looked at the spot on the chimney where the bullet had made its mark. Another couple of inches and that could have been his brains flying about instead of bits of stone and mortar. Hyde turned and prepared to make another jump. But the old bastard was quicker than he looked. One shot and the shingles began to give way beneath his feet. The chimney he clung to was no longer a match for his bulk and as it broke he fell, quite gracelessly, onto the cobblestone streets.

Hyde started to rise off the ground. He barely heard the final gunshot over his own snarling. For moment, he thought it was the final killing blow but he was proved wrong as ropes were suddenly all around him, pulling, dragging him off at a furious pace.

Trapped.

Hyde was really brassed off now.

Rage was not a strong enough word for how Hyde was feeling at the moment. That could only be expressed by the storm of curses he rained down upon the men who surrounded him and had him chained before he could disentangle himself from the ropes.

With their task accomplished, they quickly scurried out of striking range. Unfortunately, not all of them were so swift in their movements and Hyde grinned in feral satisfaction when his arm lashed out and was rewarded with the feel of flesh and a cry of pain.

He could also hear the sound of someone making a futile attempt to reason with him. Hyde growled and knocked back another man who had rushed forward to double check that the chains were secured.

"Come, little men!" Hyde Bellowed, "Come and meet death like the cowardly sons of spit you are!"

The men were angry at being so insulted and a few charged forward. Hyde easily knocked them back, grunting in annoyance when the chains restricted his movement. But again that annoying voice cut through his thoughts.

"Sir, I'm going to ask you again: If we were able to affect a cure for your condition..."

Hyde snarled and turned to stare at the dark skinned man. "A cure! You'll cure me, will you, like a wart on Jekyll's arse? Why, you self-important little turd! Unfasten these confounded chains. I'll snap your neck in two!"

The man met Hyde's gaze unflinchingly, "That would hardly be very wise of me, would it, sir?"

Hyde smiled at the dark skinned man. Respect was earned there. Still, Hyde couldn't resist the temptation to pick another fight. "You're pretty brave. Are you the leader of this sorry tribe?"

Again some fools rushed towards Hyde and he was only too happy to show them what pain was. However, it didn't escape his noticed that more people had entered the room and were watching the scene unfold as casually as if they were watching a parade.

"Mr. Hyde!" a voice called out.

Hyde turned to face the speaker, eyes narrowing in immediate dislike when he saw the old man.

"You've done terrible things in England. So terrible that you fled the country…"

Hyde let out a sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a growl and swung his arm out in front of him, hoping to use it as a weapon. I could do terrible things here if I wasn't chained, Hyde thought.

The old man was studying him carefully as he continued, "Now, I'm ashamed to say that Her Majesty's government is willing to offer you amnesty, in return for your services." There was a pregnant pause before the old man said "Do you want to go home?"

Hyde thought for a minute, suppressing a grimace as his other side became ecstatic at the offer. It was a fair deal and it seemed they were trying the gentlemanly approach. Very well, he could play along if it got him out of chains. He stood up straight and looked the old man in the eyes.

"Home…Home is where the heart is, that's what they say. And I have been missing London so… its sorrow is as sweet to me as a rare wine." He paused, thinking of all the death he'd caused there and caught the scent of a woman. His eyes met hers and Hyde's mind was set. "I'm yours."


End file.
